And they have given me the good chaplain: he prays with me, he weeps for me.His prayers still my beating heart.Yes, poor suffering angel! I read your will in these tender, but bitter, words: you prefer duty to love.And one day you will forget me; not yet awhile, but it will be so.It wounds me when I think of it, but Imust bow.Your will is sacred.I must rise to your level, not drag you to mine."Then the soldier that had stood between two armies in a hail of bullets, and fired a master-shot, took a little book of offices in one hand,--the chaplain had given it him,--and fixed his eyes upon the pious words, and clung like a child to the pious words, and kissed his lost wife's letter, and tried hard to be like her he loved: patient, very patient, till the end should come.
"Qui vive?" cried the sentinel outside to a strange officer.
"France," was his reply.He then asked the sentinel, "Where is the colonel commanding the brigade?"The sentinel lowered his voice, "Asleep, my officer," said he; for the new-comer carried two epaulets.
"Wake him," said the officer in a tone of a man used to command on a large scale.
Dujardin heard, and did not choose a stranger should think he was asleep in broad day.He came hastily out of the tent, therefore, with Josephine's letter in his hand, and, in the very act of conveying it to his bosom, found himself face to face with--her husband.
Did you ever see two duellists cross rapiers?
How unlike a theatrical duel! How smooth and quiet the bright blades are! they glide into contact.They are polished and slippery, yet they hold each other.So these two men's eyes met, and fastened: neither spoke: each searched the other's face keenly.
Raynal's countenance, prepared as he was for this meeting, was like a stern statue's.The other's face flushed, and his heart raged and sickened at sight of the man, that, once his comrade and benefactor, was now possessor of the woman he loved.But the figures of both stood alike haughty, erect, and immovable, face to face.
Colonel Raynal saluted Colonel Dujardin ceremoniously.Colonel Dujardin returned the salute in the same style.
"You thought I was in Egypt," said Raynal with grim significance that caught Dujardin's attention, though he did not know quite how to interpret it.
He answered mechanically, "Yes, I did."
"I am sent here by General Bonaparte to take a command," explained Raynal.
"You are welcome.What command?"
"Yours."
"Mine?" cried Dujardin, his forehead flushing with mortification and anger."What, is it not enough that you take my"-- He stopped then.
"Come, colonel," said the other calmly, "do not be unjust to an old comrade.I take your demi-brigade; but you are promoted to Raimbaut's brigade.The exchange is to be made to-morrow.""Was it then to announce to me my promotion you came to my quarters?" and Camille looked with a strange mixture of feelings at his old comrade.
"That was the first thing, being duty, you know.""What? have you anything else to say to me, then?""I have."
"Is it important? for my own duties will soon demand me.""It is so important that, command or no command, I should have come further than the Rhine to say it to you."Let a man be as bold as a lion, a certain awe still waits upon doubt and mystery; and some of this vague awe crept over Camille Dujardin at Raynal's mysterious speech, and his grave, quiet, significant manner.
Had he discovered something, and what? For Josephine's sake, more than his own, Camille was on his guard directly.
Raynal looked at him in silence a moment.
"What?" said he with a slight sneer, "has it never occurred to you that I MUST have a serious word to say to you? First, let me put you a question: did they treat you well at my house? at the chateau de Beaurepaire?""Yes," faltered Camille.
"You met, I trust, all the kindness and care due to a wounded soldier and an officer of merit.It would annoy me greatly if Ithought you were not treated like a brother in my house."Colonel Dujardin writhed inwardly at this view of matters.He could not reply in few words.This made him hesitate.
His inquisitor waited, but, receiving no reply, went on, "Well, colonel, have you shown the sense of gratitude we had a right to look for in return? In a word, when you left Beaurepaire, had your conscience nothing to reproach you with?"Dujardin still hesitated.He scarcely knew what to think or what to say.But he thought to himself, "Who has told him? does he know all?""Colonel Dujardin, I am the husband of Josephine, the son of Madame de Beaurepaire, and the brother of Rose.You know very well what brings me here.Your answer?""Colonel Raynal, between men of honor, placed as you and I are, few words should pass, for words are idle.You will never prove to me that I have wronged you: I shall never convince you that I have not.
Let us therefore close this painful interview in the way it is sure to close.I am at your service, at any hour and place you please.""And pray is that all the answer you can think of?" asked Raynal somewhat scornfully.
"Why, what other answer can I give you?"
"A more sensible, a more honest, and a less boyish one.Who doubts that you can fight, you silly fellow? haven't I seen you? I want you to show me a much higher sort of courage: the courage to repair a wrong, not the paltry valor to defend one.""I really do not understand you, sir.How can I undo what is done?""Why, of course you cannot.And therefore I stand here ready to forgive all that is past; not without a struggle, which you don't seem to appreciate."Camille was now utterly mystified.Raynal continued, "But of course it is upon condition that you consent to heal the wound you have made.If you refuse--hum! but you will not refuse.""But what is it you require of me?" inquired Camille impatiently.
"Only a little common honesty.This is the case: you have seduced a young lady.""Sir!" cried Camille angrily.
